


When Ice Melts

by AbsinthexMind



Series: Oh brother where art thou [38]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Confessions, Distrust, Doubt, F/M, Love Confessions, Returning Home, Reunions, Self-Acceptance, Suspicions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: Tumblr RequestSequel to Let It OutDragons return to Winterfell with their Targaryen mother and your half-brother Jon Snow.





	When Ice Melts

Impassively you gaze up at the sky, watching the winged beasts tear through the solemn clouds of the north. Both of your sisters on either side of you, watching in a mix of awe and horror. Dragons. It had been centuries since the north last hosted Targaryen dragons. And now your brother had brought them back along with their mother. 

Your large direwolf that towered over you and your sister’s flicked her ears back. Her one orange eye trained intently on the foreign threat. 

Arya smiles and without a word rushes to the courtyard to greet Jon and his entourage. You and Sansa were the only hesitant ones. 

“None of this bodes well.” Warm breath curls out of your mouth like smoke. All the soldiers and guards scatter about trying to get everything ready as the scarlet Targaryen banners came closer. 

“I agree but what else are we to do? We need her.” Sansa reminds you for the upteenth time. “We all read Ser Davos’ letter.” 

Her dragons were valuable in destroying the White Walkers, but not by much. In his letter, the old Onion Knight even said how the Night King was able to strike down one of Daenerys’ large beasts as effortlessly as hunting down game bird. It made you doubt how much you truly needed her help. 

Storm nudges at your shoulder. Knowing. Understanding. Patience. You read so much from her lone eye and she from your two eyes. You place your gloved hand on the bridge of her muzzle. Acceptance. 

Eyelids fluttering down, you bow your head. “Let her come then.”  
  
  
  
  


“I present to you the Queen of the North, First of Her Name, the Cold Wolf, Savior of the Battle of the Bastards, Lone Survivor of the Red Wedding, Queen (y/n) Stark.” Sansa proclaims proudly, holding every bit of honor that was custom of a Stark. You have to prevent yourself from looking her way, keeping your eyes trained on the silver haired queen. Immense pride of your two sisters and how much they had grown. 

Daenerys returns your cool gaze. A girl next to her with curly hair takes a step forward, introducing you to her queen with an equally long title. 

“Thank you for having us.” Daenerys holds her hands in front of her, standing tall and proud. Behind her was some members of her massive army. From what you had heard many of them being the Unsullied eunuchs. With a quick glance at Jon and Tyrion she quietly adds “Your Grace.” 

“You may call Winterfell your home for the time being. That is until the threat beyond the wall is terminated.” Pointing out right off the bat you noticed Jon and Ser Davos wince at your callousness. Even Tyrion looks a bit unsteady, his mismatched eyes glancing at his queen with hopes that she didn’t take offense. 

The Silver Haired Queen raises and elegant eyebrow. She keeps herself cordial though. “Yes. . . Of course, the same as I have promised Cersei Lannister.” 

At the mention of her name you can practically hear the Rains of Castamere playing. A memory you didn’t want to think of. Not now at least. Not now when you had to act the part of queen. You couldn’t show your weakness to Daenerys. 

An uneasy silence follows that makes everyone stir uncomfortably in the snow. Finally you address Jon. “I will require an extensive briefing on what has transpired since you left.” 

“Of course.” Jon all too readily replies. 

Before you turn away you tell Daenerys “Oh, and make sure your. . . children do not take any of our cattle. It has taken us quite a while to build back up. And with winter here we can’t afford to lose any meat.”  
  
  
*  


It wasn’t the Cold Wolf’s. . . well, cold temperament that had caught her off guard. Thanks to Jon’s warning, Daenerys was ready for her. Jon had prepared her as did Tyrion for meeting (y/n) Stark. Jon had warned her that she was very frank in her speaking and ever since the tragedy of the Red Wedding, naturally untrusting to anyone who stepped foot into Winterfell. No, what surprised Dany was the life that suddenly burst forth from Jon when he laid eyes on the Queen of the North. When they had been at the gates he had seemed anxious, even aggravated. His pale gray eyes had sparked when he caught a glimpse of his regal sister in her massive pelts and her monstrous direwolf loyally by her side. His own albino wolf Ghost was there to greet them as well. 

Dany should’ve seen it sooner. The way he had spoken about (y/n) their entire sail to Winterfell. How his smile just couldn’t seem to stop when he spoke of her. How he became so energetic reminiscing of the time they spent together as children. Especially when he had talked about their reunion after so many years apart. That she had changed dramatically from the girl he had known. (y/n) had been giddy and full of warmth. Daenerys recalled the immense melancholy that had veiled Jon’s face when he told her of what his beloved sister had become. Cold and numb like the statues in his family’s tomb. 

Everything was pieced together once Daenerys finally saw them in the same place. Jon was in love with his sister. Hopelessly in love with her. The same longing expression that Jorah and Dario have. 

At first she didn’t know what to make of it as she watched Jon loyally follow her back to the castle like he was another direwolf. 

“Your grace, are you alright?” Tyrion asks her when she made no move to follow one of the servants to her new quarters. 

Missandei touches her arm. “Khaleesi?” 

She snaps out of her stupor, face flushing from having been caught staring. 

“Yes. . . I’m alright.” 

“I don’t know how to feel either. Seeing (y/n) after so long.” Tyrion admits. “She was such a sweet thing when I first came here years ago. It’s very sad to think about what has happened to her to cause her to change completely.” 

“She has lost much but I do not necessarily think her change is a bad thing.” Missandei says. 

Daenerys looks at her questioningly. “Oh really?” 

The former slave nods. “Think about your own past, Khaleesi. You had once been a naive and weak girl. From your tragedies you grew into someone who can take charge and pose authority. (y/n) has done just that. The two of you are a lot alike. Perhaps after all this is done maybe you and (y/n) cane make a common ground where the two of you can make a permanent alliance. All they ask for is the north. Nothing else. (y/n) doesn’t seem like one who wants to conquer all like Cersei. She just wants her home and to ensure it doesn’t get invaded again.” 

Yes, perhaps they weren’t much different. Daenerys recalled the wary gaze of the Northern Queen. Was that how she looked when Jon first encountered her? Possibly. She had to stand her ground and look every part the queen that she was. It was her defense. 

Violet eyes tilting skyward to watch her children soar through the gray clouds and snow Daenerys knows that once they defeat the threat beyond the wall that (y/n) would give her one hell of a fight is she did not let her keep the north. (y/n) wasn’t scared of the threat her dragons could do. Perhaps even less so now that Daenerys only had two. She knew that they weren’t as invincible as everyone else thought them to be. They knew battle, knew how to fight as was evident from the scars on her face and the missing eye of her humongous direwolf. 

(y/n) could be her greatest ally. 

Or her greatest enemy. 

“Missandei, give the Northern Queen a message that I would like to speak to her privately.”  
*  
  


“You know it’s been hundreds of years since the Targaryens and their dragons have stepped foot into Winterfell. And now you bring them back.” In the background a log cracked under the pressure of the searing fire. “The first time was Aegon the Conqueror. He made Torrhen Stark bend the knee. Does your Silver Queen wish to do the same with me when this is all over?” Jon speaks up to protest “Of course not-” 

“Surely she won’t let there be more than one queen once she takes Westeros.” Sansa interrupts. Ever since the execution of Petyr Baelish, you had learned to trust in Sansa’s judgement and quick analysis. “In order to come here she allowed Asha Greyjoy keep her Salt Throne. She can’t let everyone have a throne though.” 

Bran sat on your other side, quiet as ever. Eerily so as he kept his eyes trained on Jon. And Arya, although happy to see her brother, knew that this was a serious matter. 

“When this is all done,” Jon keeps his gray eyes on you “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time to discuss these matters. She’s very reasonable. And she’s not my queen. You are.” 

The way he said that last part softened you. Not all the way but to a reasonable degree. You sigh and lean into your chair. The chair that your father had sat in so many years ago. Never had you thought you would be taking his place. A part of you kept nagging that it shouldn’t be you seating there. It should be Robb. It should always have been Robb. 

Internally you hiss at that painful thought. Robb was dead. You had to get over it and stop comparing yourself to him 

And you, you were very much alive. 

“And you say Cersei has agreed to ceasefire?” 

That made Sansa scoff. “I highly doubt that.” 

Jon turns to his other sister. “She gave her word. No fighting until the Night King and his army is eliminated.” 

“As much as I would like to believe you, I agree with Sansa. Jon, think about it. Cersei isn’t like our father. She doesn’t keep her vows. Yes, she’ll make them when it suits her but she won’t keep them.” 

“She must be planning something.” Sansa agrees, a bit of a frantic nature in her voice. 

Hesitantly you turn to Bran. He had proclaimed himself the Three-Eyed Raven. You wouldn’t have believed it if you hadn’t seen much stranger things. “Will you keep an eye on her Bran?” 

Everyone else was more reluctant to trust him and his new powers. You notice as regard you with uncertainty. He had perfectly recalled when Petyr had betrayed Ned. There was no denying that he possessed. . . something. 

With his soft, knowing voice, Bran replies “To the best of my abilities.” 

That would have to be enough. You nod. “Very well. We keep with the Night King as our first priority and deal with Cersei when the time comes.” You knew Sansa wasn’t happy about this but what more could you do? Your hands were tied. 

Not for the first time you wonder how Robb would’ve handled it.  
  
  
  


Like usual, Jon found you alone in the ancient Godswood. From his side, Ghost pads his way toward you and his larger sister Storm. The gray direwolf flicks her ears, turning her head lazily in greeting to her albino brother. In the same manner, you turn around languidly to face Jon. You had been kneeling down in front of the giant weirwood, much like your father had done. 

“Bran’s changed a lot.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth. A split second after an expression of repulsion sours his face as he regrets saying it. 

You softly chuckle. “We all have. Especially Bran and Arya. She avenged the Red Wedding you know. Killed all the male Freys.” A hint of pride in your voice made you smile. When Arya had first arrived at Winterfell and told you of what she had done, you had actually cried. Cried in front of her and the rest of your siblings for the first time. You were so much closer now to officially avenging your family. All that was left was Cersei. “Sit next to me, Jon.” You knew it was an odd request but ever since your last encounter with him in the godswood you had been trying hard to be a little softer. 

He seated himself next to you all too quickly. Taking off his gloves he runs a hand on Storm’s warm body. You notice how he hesitates going near her scars. “How have you been?” 

Looking over the godswood you whisper “Lonely.” It was hard to admit it. It had been so long since you let anyone know how you truly felt. “Now that I’m not numbing myself it’s become harder for me to be without Robb. It’ll pass. At least a majority of it. I don’t think I’ll ever truly be over mourning him though.” 

Jon nods. “We never do stop mourning the ones we love. But I’m happy to see you’re doing much better. It’s been years since I heard you laugh.” 

“It feels good.” You admit. Then sullenly you place a hand on his arm and gaze down at the snow covered ground. “There won’t be much time for laughing though. Not for a while.” 

His arm had tensed where you placed your hand. “No. . . (y/n), I need to tell you something. If we are to lose this war. . .” 

“Do you think we have a chance at losing?” 

Jon meets your gaze with earnesty. In it you saw the possibility of the end. You sucked in a small stream of air. “Since there is a chance that we can all die I want you to know something. Something I’ve been hesitant to do so. It could change everything. . .” He grabs both of your hands, skin on skin. Even with the chilling winter temperature his hands were incredibly warm compared to your own. Comforting. Surprisingly your hands felt perfect in his. “Robb wasn’t the only one who loved you in a way a brother shouldn’t. I. . . I love you.” 

Wide eyed, you stare at him. His own gaze is trained far away from you; a small blush dusting his cheeks. “Even when I was with Ygritte. . . It was nice but I knew my heart would always belong to you. Until the last of my days. With my last breath. I know you still love Robb. I just. . . I just needed you to know. I will fight for you. Fight for the north. I would gladly die for you. I just needed you to know if the worse was to happen to all of us. I don’t want to die with this secret in my heart.” 

“Jon. . .” You whisper, unable to think of anything else to say. With Robb it had always been so easy. Your relationship just happened without any words. The two of you fell into it so easily. It was just like breathing. With Jon though? Jon your brother. You had never seen him in the way you saw Robb. 

Finally Jon’s gray eyes turn up. The scars on his face, although healed, would never fade much like your own. You wondered how you looked like to him with your own scarred face. 

Incredibly close, you can’t pull your eyes away from him. Stark gray against Stark gray. 

“Excuse my interruption.” You and Jon jump at the intrusion, scrambling away from one another. Heart nearly leaping you frantically turn to Daenerys’ translator. The one who had introduced her. She herself appeared a little startled. Composing herself once more she goes on. “My queen would like to speak to you privately. Just the two of you.” 

Your head was buzzing, still reeling from what Jon had told you. “Yes, um. . . tell her that we can speak in my chambers. I will be there shortly.” 

She nods and leaves, not before casting one last glance at you and Jon. Storm and Ghost diligently watched her leave as you tried to regain yourself. It had been a long time since you had been flustered like that. 

Getting to your feet you wring your hands. “Jon-” 

“I know.” Jon interrupts quietly. “It was a lot to bring up on you at such a bad time. If we do survive and win the war against the Night King then we can further discuss this. For now, you go be queen. Make your negotiations and allies.” 

Gratefully you bend down to kiss his forehead. You would be patient. Patient with Jon and patient with Daenerys. In the end she could be your greatest ally. And if she was as reasonable as Jon said perhaps you could still keep your crown without having to fight her.


End file.
